


In what distant deeps or skies

by Elizabeth Culmer (edenfalling)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Alternate Universe - Space, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Communication, F/M, Gen, Letters, Long-Distance Relationship, Prompt Fic, Wistful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 17:58:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6205120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenfalling/pseuds/Elizabeth%20Culmer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Assigned to different ships at opposite ends of the Federation, in the middle of an interminable war, Dave and Jade do their best to stay in touch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In what distant deeps or skies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MadameHardy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameHardy/gifts).



> This ficlet was written for [madamehardy](http://madamehardy.tumblr.com) in response to the prompt: _Or, if you prefer, Dave, Jade, long-distance relationship_. Apparently they are in a slightly dystopian version of Star Trek, with the trolls substituting for the Klingons and/or Romulans? I dunno, don't look too hard at the world-building here. *handwaves briskly*

One side effect of working communications is that Dave gets first look at all incoming transmissions -- or at least, his sorting algorithms do, and they flag up anything that looks hinky and/or just plain interesting. He also dips into the raw flow at least a couple times a shift, just to keep an eye on his babies because machine intelligence is damn good these days but still not as good at high-context stuff as humans are.

The downside of this is he gets _way_ too much information about his crewmates' personal lives, most of which he would frankly be much happier not knowing (though blackmail is useful, oh yes; Dave has whole sheaves of favors he can call in anytime he wants). The upside, of course, is he gets to snatch Jade's message packets off the public servers before anyone else notices he's received mail that technically breaks all the data limits for enlisted personnel. Transmissions don't officially exist on the ship network until they make it past his station, after all, so no passage, no message, no problem. He has a very carefully written program to tuck them aside in a hidden folder when his beta and gamma shift counterparts are on duty, until he can download them himself onto a private data stick.

(He's not quite sure how Jade gets away with sending them from her own ship. Bribery? Hacking? Intimidation? Probably a bit of all three, knowing her. It's not a good idea to piss off the person responsible for keeping your engine and life support together.)

The data stick in his pocket feels heavy and sharp with promise all through the remainder of his shift, and he knows if he weren't wearing his shades, everyone on the bridge would be able to see exactly how distracted he is. Fortunately nothing happens -- they're on a recuperative mission well within the Federation's border, recalibrating the unmanned sensor satellites that track instabilities in a massive blue-white star in order to send early warnings to its inhabited neighboring systems -- and the only real duty Dave has all shift is making final edits on the daily department reports before sending them back to the nearest starbase.

(He gets at least one pre-warp meme into each message -- three into the captain's -- and considers that a job well done.)

Finally he can flee, at a careful walking pace, to his cabin down in the belly of the ship. He's senior enough he gets his own space, tiny and overheated though it is, crammed up right against the engineering decks, and the beautiful thing about sticking Jade's messages onto the data stick is that the ship network now thinks they're his own personal files rather than regulation-breaking mail files. He plugs the stick into his terminal and keys open the holographic display.

Jade's grease-streaked face smiles at him from across some unimaginable stretch of space and time, and Dave sinks onto his bunk with an answering smile as her voice -- a little tinny, a little faint, but unmistakably her -- says, "Hey Dave, I'm still alive! We had another battle against the trolls last week, but no major damage and the supply convoy we're guarding made it through to Marinus IV. I'm starting to think we'll make it through to the end of our deployments, and maybe we should make plans for what to do once we're free."

Her voice softens a little from its determined good cheer, and a glowing, staticky hand reaches out toward the camera. Toward Dave. "I miss you so much. Every day. Messages aren't the same as hugging you for real."

"I know," Dave tells the holograph. "Me too."

He settles back to listen to her life.


End file.
